Tabula Rasa
by Lionora
Summary: Collective mind-loss at Hogwarts. What will Hermione and our favourite Potions Master do when they're not themselves? Come on, you know you'll want to read this. Inspired by Buffy. Ships: H/S *COMPLETE!*
1. Prologue: A Masterpiece In The Making

Tabula rasa 

If anyone is familiar with season six of Buffy, they'll recognize the concept. I don't know if this has been done before, but the idea was too tempting not to have a go at it. Plus it's perfect for an H/S fic if you consider the Giles/Anya aspect. And oh the possibilities …

Unless you've temporarily been lodged outside this galaxy, you are of course well aware of the fact that none of the characters are mine (though I wouldn't complain if they were), they're all JK Rowling's, I just borrowed them to have some fun. I'm not making any money (though I wouldn't complain if I were), if you've paid to read this, you must have done something wrong. The concept isn't entirely mine either, this I owe to the genius of Joss Whedon and his crew. The plot and the sick little jokes are mine, though, and anything you don't like probably belongs to me as well.

No characters have been harmed in the making.

Hundred points to your house if you spot the Buffy quotes.

**************************************************************************** Prologue: A Masterpiece in the Making 

"You are … like, insane," stammered Crabbe, when I first laid out my plan to him and Goyle. I was temporarily thrown off by his use of a polysyllabic word, but recovered quickly enough. "I prefer the term evil genius," I replied coolly and shot him the most condescending look I could muster. Years of training in front of the mirror paid off as Crabbe backed away like a chided dog.

I allowed a grin to spread across my face. "Think of it," I went on, marvelling at the prospect, "It sure is perfect. I can hardly stand the wait."

My two companions exchanged a dubious look when they thought I wasn't watching. Yes, doubt, cowards, as long as you do what I tell you, I don't care. You'll see, this will be a masterpiece, a genuine, evil, dark-wizarding stunt of brilliance, remembered by generations to come-

"He's got that dreamy look again," I heard Goyle whisper, interrupting my process of pondering my greatness. I sneered, and they jumped. Well, where sneering is concerned, I've learned from the best. Professor Snape would have been proud of me.

Having regained their undivided attention, I filled them in on the details, hissed out some orders and told them to bugger off – even a genuine evil masterpiece is not worth being late for Professor McGonagall's class. In fact, I don't think there'd be much left of me to perform the genuine evil masterpiece in question if I were to cross her. I'm so not afraid of her, of course. It is just not worth the fuss.

~*~

Friday night was perfect for this, so in the afternoon, in our common room, I outlined each step to my two morons, dwelling on what each of them had to do. Shame I couldn't see it through on my own. I hated depending on those two half-wits. 

"See, it's really quite simple. We cast this spell on the Great Hall, that is fairly safe, because it will be deserted by the time we're doing this. So we can make sure no one gets involved who shouldn't. We just want the Git Who Lived with his Mudblood friend and the Weasley nerd, right?"

"But Draco," Crabbe interrupted, "what if we're caught?"

"Stop whining!" I barked, "We won't. That's why we're doing it in the Great Hall. If Filch or anyone is lurking around, we'll see them coming miles away. And remember, the spell is permanent unless broken, which means it won't simply wear off. Once we cast it, our brave Gryffindor heroes won't have a clue about who they are, or where. So they won't go around blaming us, right?"

"And you think they'll get themselves expelled?"

"Probably. They'll be staggering around all night, so they're bound to run into Filch or Mrs Norris. Or Peeves," I added, with unholy glee. I could just picture them, unknowing, scared, running rampant in the castle, getting lost in corridors that were out of bounds, getting stuck on trick stairs… It would be hilarious even if they didn't get expelled. I felt a smile creep up the corners of my mouth again, but I stifled it. There were important tasks to be dealt with.

Goyle looked as though it was all quite beyond his reach. "But – Potter and the rest aren't going to be sitting in the great Hall at two in the morning."

I sighed, but managed to keep in control. _What did you have for lunch, Goyle, brains?_ I replied, "Exactly. That's where you come in. See, here's what you have to do…"

~*~

This was risky, I know, but whoever said that courage was only for Gryffindors? Slytherins are just as brave, but we're cunning as well, you know? And since that Potter git had been eating at my nerves for almost seven years, I saw fit for him to get his share of suffering.

I would have done this earlier, of course.

Only I just found this perfect spell when I was sneaking in my father's private library – I mean, when he was sharing some of his adorable knowledge of the darker arts with me last summer. It requires at least a pair of casters, but the more the better. And since we're not really all that experienced – I mean, since neither Crabbe nor Goyle was a mastermind like myself, I concluded it best if we did this all together. So after all my little traps were set, I positioned Goyle next to the entrance of the Great Hall, had Crabbe stand near the opposite wall and got up to the high table myself.

It was imperative that we had eye contact, because we needed to fire at precisely the same instant. The spell was supposed to charm the room it was cast in, and everyone inside that room would fall under it if they were not a caster. I shot each of my companions a stern look and counted to three, and-

"CONFUTATIS MALEDICTIS"

-we all shouted at the same time. Bluish light sparkled from my wand, and a ribbon of sparks caught up with similar ones from Crabbe and Goyle. Once they connected, a blue glow filled the Hall, travelling up to the enchanted ceiling and spreading from there. We dashed out in a hurry – erm, we strode out in a dignified, contented way.

"Was it supposed to look like that, Draco?"

How was I supposed to know that?

"Sure, Crabbe, don't worry. Whoever enters the hall now will be knocked out for some time, and when they come back to their senses, their minds will be wiped clean."

"But everyone will go there for breakfast tomorrow," Goyle wailed, looking as though he had just realized that he had jeopardized his next meal.

"It will have worn off 'til then. I told you it'd last for only about an hour. And Potter and his minions will be here soon, if you've left the note correctly."

Goyle assured me that he had, and we took up positions behind a knight's armour next to the doors leading into to Great Hall.

Now all I needed to do was wait.

Mwahahahaha … damn, if only I had brought some chocolate frogs.


	2. Traps Working

Traps working 

I didn't like it a bit.

Really, I agree there were worse things I have encountered here, but that doesn't mean I'm approving of milder versions of what is still BREAKING THE RULES.

And anyway, this was ridiculous.

There, I just had to read it again:

_Harry, meet me in the Great Hall at two o'clock tonight._

Wasn't that just the silliest note you'd ever seen? "It doesn't even say who sent this, Harry."

"Maybe whoever send it was in a hurry. Maybe they didn't have time," he suggested.

Ron cut in. "Maybe it's from Sirius."

I rolled my eyes. They were so eager to get into trouble, they would have taken any excuse to sneak around past curfew. Even a line scribbled down on a piece of parchment. "Sirius could see Harry here in the common room. He's done so before. Plus he always signed his letters, which he sent by owls, by the way. This … request … just happened to find its way into Harry's bag."

They exchanged glances. They always do so when I have a point, to rethink their strategy and reassure themselves. As if I wouldn't notice. I turned my back on them to demonstrate how little I cared and stared at the flames in the fireplace. People were beginning to leave around us and head for their respective dorms. My eyes were beginning to water from staring into the fire, and I glared back at my two best stupid friends. 

"Look, Hermione," Ron went on (right, I'm looking, but all I'm seeing is a bright orange spot of light dancing before me – it looks a bit like Ron, though, I'll just pretend it's him). "There's three of us, plus we're having the Invisibility Cloak. We could just go there, have a glance at who awaits Harry, and if it's, like, Lucius Malfoy, we'll leave. No one will notice we've ever been there. And we can get some food from the House Elves on our way back," he added, quite satisfied.

The bright spot of light is dissolving slowly, and I can make out the silhouette of Harry's head nodding his approval.

"You don't think for one moment that this could be a prank?" I enquire, "Sat up by Malfoy, who wants to lure you out so he can tip off Filch and get you into trouble?"

"Actually," Harry smiles, "That was among the first thoughts that crossed my mind. And I'm just dying to find out."

~*~ 

I had all but forgotten how it feels to be cramped under the Invisibility Cloak with them. It had always been awkward, but having grown somewhat was really making things difficult. The cloak might have been designed to cover an adult (or three kids), but we were slowly getting too old for this. I said as much, and received poking elbows on either side of my ribcage.

Harry, meanwhile, was opening the doors to the Hall with great care. If he'd still had the Marauder's Map, things would have been so much easier. But I could of course understand his giving it to Dumbledore when things at Hogwarts had become nasty again last year. I had actually urged him to hand it in. It was a useful tool, and the Headmaster had vowed to use it only in case of emergency, lest we should feel deprived of our privacy. He had not enquired about its origins, which leads me to suspect he already knew more about it than we had anticipated.

"There's no one in there yet, we should enter and see who's coming," Harry hissed.

"Maybe they're hiding, anyway. In which case they could already be there," whispered Ron.

I didn't tell them off for making no sense. I simply didn't have the energy. Our N.E.W.T.s were coming up, and I should have been either sleeping or studying. Instead I had myself allowed to be dragged along on what was definitely the most pointless adventure ever. Merlin, there is only so much a troll-induced friendship should have to endure.

When we opened the doors to the Hall and entered, I thought I caught some movement in the corner of my eye, but since I was part of a six-legged entity now, I couldn't stop to investigate.

We reached the high table, and Harry threw off the cloak. "No one here," he stated, obviously disappointed. They ventured a bit deeper into the Hall, leaving the cloak at my feet. I crossed my arms over my chest. Ron turned to Harry. "Let's wait a bit, then get some food."

I was about to take a stand and drag them back to bed immediately, when I noticed the flickering blue lights speeding down from the enchanted ceiling. Harry had noticed them, too. I saw him try to dodge some sparks, but suddenly everything erupted in a blue explosion. I didn't even have time to raise my wand before everything went black and maybe this is death and I knew I shouldn't have let myself be dragged along and this is stupid why do things like this always happen and I don't want to die now not so shortly before graduating anyway andidontwantto… *THUD*

**Great Minds in distress**

"Now see here, Severus, you have to admit this is the best way to do it," I argued, watching the Potions Master's profile, trying to read his expression. Unreadable, of course. He was either a very withdrawn young man, or he did a formidable job of creating that impression. Or maybe he just was steaming with anger about to erupt and I was walking beside a very active volcano. I closed my fingers tightly on the wand in my sleeve.

Albus cut in. "I do agree with Minerva. I might add that we are depending on your cooperation here." Severus gave what was a moderate sneer compared to his usual standards. I knew he was not exactly partial to the idea, but was unable to come up with a better solution. The situation was tense, to say the least. As we walked back from the dungeons, where we had been discussing the matter, we passed the corridor near the Great Hall.

As it was well past midnight, none of us would usually have been anywhere near the Great Hall. Argus Filch does a good job of patrolling the castle, and the ghosts are perceptive and can be trusted with few exemptions. Oh, there have been times when we were all alert day and night, I just recall the turmoil four years ago, when Black had been on the loose… Anyway, these days, none of the staff would have been here at this time of the night, hadn't it been for the urgent matters we had been discussing for hours now.

We turned a corner – and froze.

From the gaps between the doors leading to the Great Hall came bright blue flashes of light, as if a blizzard had chosen to take up residence in our midst. The light flickered and ceased in the split seconds we were watching, but Albus was already at the doors, wand raised, face a mask of determination. Severus was at his heels, the embodiment of fury, looking positively frightening.

I made my way in just after them to find the Hall quiet and peaceful and in perfect order.

Then I saw the bodies.

"Oh Merlin," I remember gasping, before I ran after Albus to inspect the damage. Potter and Weasley were lying on the floor, immobile, with their eyes closed. Closer inspection revealed them to be alive, thank Heavens, but obviously knocked out. As Albus walked around the room, checking for the cause of this, I went on to transfigure some chairs into stretchers, when I heard Severus voice behind me.

"Here's another."

I turned to see Miss Granger lying next to the high table, with Severus bent over her, his hand resting on her forehead. I am quite sure to recall him muttering something sounding like "stupid, troublesome Gryffindors" when I noticed the blue sparks speeding down on him. I wanted to call out or raise my wand but found myself quite incapable of doing so. Instead, I could only watch in horror, as Severus eyes lost all focus and he seemed to go completely limb. Mind you, I was in no better state myself, what with the blue light starting to encircle me as well. I heard Albus' voice "No, not THAT spell," then a soft thud that indicated he had made contact with the floor.

The last thing I saw before I was fainting myself was Severus collapsing right on Miss Granger


	3. Great Minds In Distress

Great Minds In Distress II 

I was cool, determined and absolutely in control. I was calm.

I was dead.

_Where had they come from?_  The most unlikely people to be here at this time. The most unwise people to pull a prank with.

Snape – that was bad. McGonagall – even worse. And Dumbledore – a disaster.

I was so done for.

I slumped down on the floor, trying to get a grip, but all I could think off was the fact that I had just put the Headmaster, Deputy Headmistress and my Head of House successfully out of order.

I suppressed the urge to punch Crabbe in the face when he leant down next to me. "Draco? They just walked in there. Draco? What are we going to do now? Draco?"

Goyle, meanwhile, was edging towards the entrance to the Great Hall.

"DON'T!" I yelled, making him jump. "It's not worn off yet. It's bad enough already without one of you blacking out as well." I looked into their faces. Understanding was not looking back at me.

Merlin, next time I decided to attack, I'd swear I'd team up with a bunch of Ravenclaws, even if that meant – well, teaming up with a bunch of Ravenclaws. Having Crabbe and Malfoy as allies was like having minus two brains working for you.

_Think_, I urged myself. You're a smart Malfoy. Think like one. What would father do now? Right, killing everyone definitely _was_ an option, but unfortunately I was not even close to possessing the power and training required to cast an Unforgivable. Erm, what I mean is, those fools running this school haven't seen fit to acquaint us with even the most essential measures of magical killing yet.

Alternatives. I quickly needed plenty of alternatives. Like-

"We have to break the spell."

The Brain Brigade still glared at me. Whatever was in charge of their functioning? How did they manage to understand the concept of, for example, continuous breathing?

"Crabbe, Goyle, we have to BREAK THE DAMN SPELL. NOW!"

"But that means we're letting Potter off the hook," Goyle complained.

"It also means we're going to live and not be expelled," I ranted. "Goyle, that's _Dumbledore_ in there, with McGonagall and Snape. They're going to _flay us alive_ if they ever find out what we did. And we can't, like, keep them under this spell forever, right?"

_Why not?,_ a voice in my head demanded. I recognized it as my evil self and shunned it. Not really an option, this. Dumbledore might be a senile old fool, but not even the most deluded staff members would fail to notice that he was cursed when he showed up without any memories. Potter could have gotten in trouble all by himself, he was known for messing around with dark powers. But it would be so obvious that the teachers' minds had been tampered with.

"How do we break it?" Crabbe asked.

"Easy. We just have to position ourselves in the exact places where we stood when we cast it. We say the counter curse, and everyone previously affected will get their memories back. They don't even have to be in the same room anymore."

I was glad I had looked this up after all, even though I had of course never intended to use it.

"What is the counter curse, Malfoy?"

"It's …" _Damn, what was it again? I forgot, oh Merlin, it's gone. _My slightly-hysterical-and-on-the-verge-of-panic self was taking over inside my head. It was no use. I had never memorized it.

"Okay, tell you what we'll do. We go back to the dorm, look up the counter curse, and sneak back here to cast it. If they wake up in the meantime, we'll have to lure them out of the Hall, so they don't see us. Once we cast the counter curse, we head back to the dungeons as quickly as possible. No one must know about this. We'd be history."

"But Draco, that's what you said you wanted to be."

I flicked my wand at Goyle and put a gluing spell to his mouth. Blissful. Should have done that years before.

We trod back in heavenly silence.

The Awakening 

Something soft lying beneath me had shifted, and come to lie partly on top of me, turning from being rather pleasant to feeling rather heavy.

I stirred.

So did the weight across my chest.

I tried to move. My arms seemed to be pinned to the floor by the same weight that now began to interfere seriously with my breathing.

I yanked one arm free and attempted to shove the obstacle away. It screamed in my face and I bolted straight up.

A face was staring at me. Was that a human face? It was distorted by fear and surrounded by a tangled mass of brown hair. I scrambled away in surprise.

More screaming was going on. I heard someone gasp in shock, someone else yelped. The face was still there. It was still looking at me. 

Someone broke the silence. "Who are you guys?"

I looked up to see who had asked. A red-haired boy of about seventeen, maybe eighteen years was standing a few feet away. He was taking a rather defensive posture. Next to him sat another boy, who was looking around with a dazed expression, gaze apparently not entirely focussed on anything.

As no one felt entitled to answer, I turned my attention back to the face next to me. It appeared to be attached to a body (for once, no surprise there), which was presumably what had been interfering with my sleeping.

What had I been doing, lying on the floor with … a girl? I dragged myself up, not sure what to make of the situation. She got to her feet as well.

"Who are you?" she said, still staring at me. Before I could answer, something moved a short distance away.

"Will anyone please be so kind to tell me what has happened? And who are you?" a stern voice asked. I looked at its owner, who turned out to be a woman with the most disapproving look on her face. She was wearing … _a pointed hat_?

The boy on the floor had managed to get up as well. He had black hair and green eyes and somehow annoyed me. More than anyone else, that is.

As everyone in the closer vicinity appeared to have regained a standing position, we eyed each other suspiciously. I brought both hands to my temples and began to apply some pressure, as I was taking in the situation.

I had found myself on the floor of what appeared to be a hall of some sorts. There were long tables, chandeliers, and the inevitable banners. I couldn't help but notice the lack of a ceiling. There was an odd variety of people standing around me. A girl, with whom I had obviously just shared a slumber, a woman dressed up as a witch and two teenage boys with the most unnerving stupidity imprinted on their faces.

"Now what is this?" I demanded. Everyone looked at me. "Is this a joke? Who are you, and where am I?"

"_You_ tell _me_!" the redhead shouted. He was sounding as though his nerve might fail him. "Who are you freaks? Did you kidnap me?"

Before anyone had a chance to speak, something shot up behind a table. It appeared to be an old man in robes, but no old man could possibly climb up the table as quickly and agile as this one did. Looking around, he spotted our ill-mixed little group.

"Lovely!" he exclaimed, getting down and hurrying towards us. "A party. Is this a castle?" He came up to me and grabbed my collar. I yanked myself free, but he kept tugging at my clothes. "Say, good Sir, are you the owner of this splendid place?"

"Most definitely not," I spat.

"Unfortunate indeed. But do you mind if I have a look around?" With that he turned and left, venturing the full length of the hall, looking around like a tourist in a cathedral.

The girl had edged away from me during this strange intermezzo, and was now standing close to the strange woman. They both turned their attention to me.

"Does anyone know where we are?" the woman asked. The boys shook their heads. The black-haired one said, in a low voice, "I don't even know _who_ I am."

"Me neither!" the other one shouted, and the girl nodded.

This was ridiculous.

"This is ridiculous. Are you implying that none of you knows who he is?" I sneered derisively. Hang on – this felt somehow satisfying. Familiar.

"Do you?" the girl demanded. I looked down at her.

"Of course I do. I am …" I paused.

I didn't know.

She gave me a smug look.

A loud smashing noise interrupted us again. The old man had examined some pieces of armour, which were now shattered on the floor. He hadn't separated himself from any of his limbs, though, so I decided to ignore it. He waved and shouted at me, "Truly splendid, your collection, Sir. Has anyone ever told you that you look like Count Dracula from a distance?"

The boys had begun to chuckle, and the redhead whispered, "Who's Count Dracula?" The other one shrugged, and they chuckled some more. They seemed to be getting along fairly quickly. Maybe I should have an eye on them.

The girl was pacing now, muttering to herself. I noticed she was wearing the same strange robes as the boys. Actually, even I appeared to be following this dress-code. Only my robes were plain black, much more elegant and sleek than what the others were wearing.

Examining their clothes, I noticed a coat-of-arms embroidered on them.

"Hold on. Come here," I told the girl. I bent down and tried to make sense of the imagery. Arranged beneath the word "Hogwarts" were some animals: a lion (somewhat pompous-looking), a badger, a raven and a beautiful silvery snake. It was subtitled: "Draco dormiens numquat titillando". The girl cleared her throat. I noticed that – while tracing the writing – my hand was closing in on one of her … er, an inappropriate place on her front. Uh, that wasn't good. I mean, it was good, it felt good, but I wasn't sure if I was entitled to do this. I took my hand away. We were both avoiding to look at each other.

"What does this mean?" pondered the dark-haired boy. "Maybe we're in a club or something. Had a club celebration, got drunk, have a blackout."

"I don't think I drink," I heard the girl whisper. The woman gave her an approving look.

"Yeah, well, I could see myself in a club," the red-haired boy said, "But what about _them_?" He pointed at the woman and me.

"Well, maybe we are somehow related," she said. Since she had a slight Scottish accent, I doubted anyone here was a relative of hers.

"You have the same coloured hair," the girl stated, indicating me and the black-haired boy. "Maybe you're father and son."

"What!?!" we both exclaimed simultaneously.

"There is a ruggedly handsome resemblance."

"My father? Him?" The boy turned to look at me incredulously.

I contemplated this. "You do seem familiar," I told him, watching him through narrowed eyes. "When I look at you, I get this sense of … sheer disappointment."

"Oh yeah!" he rolled his eyes, "I must despise you. And what's with the trollop?" He pointed at the girl. "I saw you two, sleeping together."

"Resting together," I corrected furiously. "And how dare you…"

The woman cut in. "Since neither of us knows anything, I suggest we find some help."

"Get to a hospital," the girl offered.

The woman nodded. "We might consider splitting up. As there are several doors to this … enclosure, I suggest we proceed in pairs. The boys can check the door over there, and the two of you can try that one." She shoved the girl in my direction and pointed us at another door. "I will take care of our eager adventurer here …" she concluded, nodding her head at the old man, who was having a ball. Right at the moment he was attempting to put on a knight's armour. "… we'll see if we can find anyone. Report back here in an hour."

Everyone agreed reluctantly, and we all sat off in different directions. I admit that I was relieved to be rid of my potential son's company. As we departed the hall and decided to try a staircase, I glanced at the girl. She was struggling to keep up. When our eyes met, she looked away quickly. I found a nasty little grin playing at the corners of my mouth. I guess I must be a nasty kind of person. I tried a sneer, and found that it felt good, even more, it felt _right_.

"So…" I began, "… do you have any idea why you just woke up on top of me?"


	4. Through Terra Incognita

Through Terra Incognita 

Outrageous! Impertinent!

And anyway, what was _he_ looking so smug about?

We were in this together, right? All lost, out of our minds, victims of what must have been a horrible accident. So why did he still look so self-confident? No, wait, it was even more than that – he was looking really satisfied since he had begun to treat me derisively.

He seemed to be completely at ease.

I knew _I_ was not.

I was panicky. Terrified!

I didn't know anything, and that scared the hell out of me. It somehow didn't feel right to be so utterly at a loss.

And paired up with a black scarecrow. Oh well, more scare than crow.

While we were marching up the nearest staircase, I decided it was time for some mental inventory. What did I know?

Let's see … I had just woken up in what appeared to be a castle filled with a bunch of weird people … actually, I had woken up _on top_ of one of them.

I didn't know anyone. Neither did _they_ recognize _me_. I had no idea where I was. Or what business I had with the overgrown bat walking next to me.

How did he dare?

How did he dare ask me why I woke up on top of him when I didn't even know my own name? I wouldn't even have been able to recognize my face in a mirror.

Oh, I so hated this.

Had I just whimpered? Bat-man was giving me a strange sideways glance. Hope I hadn't just whimpered.

Leaving the hall, we had divided into pairs as the woman in the pointed hat had suggested. I whished I could have gone with her instead, she seemed to be the most trustworthy person of this strange little party. Instead she had sent me off with this shadowy figure. Brrr…

We really needed to find help. It'd been only five minutes since we had left the hall and we were encountering troubles already. As we were climbing up the stairs, I discovered it was ending in mid-air by walking straight of the edge.

The bat yanked me back at my collar. Yeah, I prefer being strangled over plunging to death any time, thanks.

Shivering, I looked down the ravine. "Who would design a staircase leading to nowhere?"

Not answering, he swept around, cloak in full swish. He was heading back down, striding heedlessly in the lead, me struggling to keep up.

"Look," I panted, "If this is a castle, it's bound to have a library. We could find answers to what has happened in a book."

He sneered again. Boy, that one had limits to his facial expressions. "And which book would you suggest we try? _Blackout for Beginners_ or _Do-It-Yourself Amnesia_ or just _Insanity_?" he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Or what about _Being Lost Somewhere Without Knowing Your Name_?"

I was sick of being mocked. The whole situation was just so frustrating, and there is only so much a person without any personal memories can take. Something snapped inside me. I ran after him, yelling "Yeah, and while we're at it, we can find the _Guide To Waking Up On Weirdos_."

Hang on – did I just see the ghost of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth? Now please don't tell me he's got _that_ kind of humour.

As we were heading further down, he refused to pay me any attention. I kept silent – what was I to say? Anyway, I guessed he was older than me, so he _should_ be the one in charge.

"Dungeons," he suddenly stated.

"Beg your pardon?" Did he want to lock me away?

"This is the way to the dungeons."

"How do you know? Have you been here before?"

We stopped our descent on a landing. "Probably," he replied slowly, looking around. It was darker here, and I had trouble adjusting to the dwindling light. "I just seem to know."

That was fine with me. I just seemed to know next to nothing, and any bit of information came in handy. If we knew where the dungeons of this castle were, surely we would avoid them?

My companion had other ideas, tough. More determined than ever, he covered the next flight of stairs.

"What are you doing?" I shouted after him, trying to keep up.

"What does it look like?"

"You're not thinking of going there, are you?"

He stopped and turned around to face me. He wore the most annoyed expression. "I doubt you are in any position to even begin to comprehend my thoughts, but yes, I am heading down."

"But why?!?"

If looks could kill, I would have burned to cinders that instant. He sighed, than took a step towards me. We were inches apart now. Which made it somehow hard to concentrate on what he was saying. … Wow, he had the darkest eyes I had ever seen … ah well, not that I'd remember anyway… "Listen carefully now, as I will not repeat this," he hissed, "I do seem to have a vague recollection of this location, which implies that I have been here before. In my opinion, this fact makes the dungeons the perfect place to begin our search. If you disagree, you might want to continue floundering around aimlessly. I will not hold you."

Honestly, he was getting a bit tough. I mean, being annoyed and unnerved is understandable in a situation such as ours, but he was becoming really mean. If this was his true personality beginning to shine through, I was in more trouble than I had anticipated.

"There is absolutely no need to be so condescending," I reprimanded him. "Who do you think you are, anyway?"

This earned me another near-fatal glance, but no reply. Okay, it was (hopefully) not the cleverest remark I had ever made. I tried to keep my mouth shut as he waltzed off again, and concentrated on keeping up once more. (He might be unpleasant company, but scary as he was, the thought of exploring this realm on my own frightened me more.)

We reached the end of the stairs. A dark and quiet hallway stretched to either side of us. There were more knights' armours, several doors and a lot of portraits. I looked at the nearest one, it showed an old man in shiny robes sitting at a desk. He was asleep.

My companion had examined some of the pictures, too. Now he shook his head in confusion. "They're all asleep."

"Who?" I asked.

"The people in these portraits. They are all asleep."

He was right. All of the portraits depicted sleeping men and women dressed in robes and pointed hats (seemed to be a common fashion here). It was gloomy. I didn't like this.

"I don't like this." My voice sounded less confident by the minute. Maybe I should consider shutting up for good an option.

I was suffering a tremendous case of nerves by now. Involuntarily, I edged closer to him. He was the closest thing to a human being around, right? Still, trying to draw comfort from his presence was like trying to draw warmth from an ice-cube. Ignoring my nervous self completely, he leaned in on one of the pictures to examine it more closely. "It almost looks alive," he said, marvelling at the details. "It is … incredible."

"But they're all asleep."

"_Not quite, thanks to you two. Would you mind keeping the noise down? You have been yelling all over the stairs. I have heard you_." The voice had come from behind us, and we jumped around frantically. There was no one there.

"Did you hear that?" I whispered.

"_Oh, NOW you're whispering, thank you very much_."

It was … OHMYGOD, it was the sleeping old man in the portrait?¿? Only he wasn't sleeping anymore, he was wide awake and MOVING and TALKING.

The picture was talking to us.

Okay. Take a deep breath. Count to ten.

The picture was still talking to us.

Several things then happened at once.

Terrified to the core of my being, I did what everyone in my place would have chosen to do. I launched myself at my dark and imposing companion and attempted to hide behind his back. Due to a complete miscalculation of force, I managed to knock him over and land right on top of him (hmm, this was becoming a habit … I wondered if we had a history of this kind of interaction?). Between us, we knocked over a piece of armour, which shattered on the floor with a series of loud CLUNKs. The noise served to wake up the other subjects of the portraits, all of whom began to stumble around in bewilderment, ranting about our intrusion and telling us off.

It was a nightmare.

Somehow in the middle of it all, I had begun to scream. I had not stopped yet. I had no intention to stop.

Someone dragged me through a door and into another room. It was quiet here, except for my screaming. Someone told me to calm down. Someone shook me, urging me to "shut the hell up". So I did.

Apparently, my black knight had saved me. He must have disentangled himself from me and pulled me out of the pandemonium in the hallway. And into …

"Is this a classroom?" I asked, taking in our new surroundings. I was still hoarse from all the screaming. 

"Seems so."

"So is this …" I looked him straight in the eye.

He finished my sentence, "… a school? – Seems so."

Now that was good news. I mean, a school is _per definitionem_ a place of knowledge and discipline and order. What scary or unusual things could happen in a school?

He was pacing the floor now. "The pictures were talking to us."

Oh, right, _that_. Oh, but if this was a school, it was a good place, and this madness could probably be rationalized away. There had to be an explanation.

"Maybe they were no pictures after all. I mean, pictures don't talk, do they? Maybe these were … like, flat TV screens."

My saviour (he _did_ save me, and I couldn't keep calling him a bat, right?) stared at me. "What in Heavens name is a TV screen?"

Before I could call him nuts, a ghost shot out of the blackboard and came floating towards us. Under these circumstances, I decided the wisest course of action was passing out.

So I did.


	5. Unfogging the Present

Unfogging the Present 

"Repeat it," I ordered.

They did. Their pronunciation was painful, but it would do.

"Right, now try to remember that until we're in the Great Hall."

"But, Draco, what if they're still there?" Goyle asked. Much as I hated to admit it, he had a point there.

"Well, we'll have to lure them out. We can't have them seeing us." Of course, I was not afraid of Potter and his fan club. I just figured it would be sensible to keep my involvement hidden from the three most imposing teachers of the school.

I closed the book. It was titled "Useful Modern Curses". I had found it in my father's private library, you know, the one in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. The one I didn't really have access to. The one I was not to mention to anyone. The one with the books Flourish and Blotts didn't sell. The one … I think you're getting the picture.

I didn't know if the book was rare or valuable, but I was dead certain that I would have hell to pay if it was found in my possession. So I put it away carefully before we left again.

I had double-checked the fact that the curse could only be removed if the countercurse was spoken at exactly the same place as the original incantation. Frankly, I was not too keen on heading back, as it was hard sneaking around at night with two companions as clumsy and noisy as Crabbe and Goyle. I could have run around with an armada of Norwegian Ridgebacks at my heels and would have drawn less attention to myself.

~*~

"Do you suppose we belong here?"

I shrugged. "Could be. I mean, we are kind of wearing these robe-thingies with the coat-of-arms that was also on the banner in that hall."

"Yeah, but maybe we have been kidnapped by cult-members or something, and these are, like, sacrificial robes."

I must have gaped, because my black-haired companion quickly added, "It's not likely, though. I mean, they would have killed us, or placed some guards."

By now, I was ready to accept any explanation. I was getting more frustrated by the minute. I mean, losing your memory was bad enough. Losing it at a location like this was making things infinitely worse. Finding you're actually participating in a happy little group amnesia was more than one person should have to suffer without a constant supply of chocolate. Oh well, I had been hungry ever since we had left the castle. Hey, it might be an inappropriate thing to focus on in this situation, but I couldn't help it.

We had left the castle through a huge front door and were wandering around the grounds aimlessly. I was glad I wasn't alone, because this castle (from the outside it was quite obvious that it was one) was rather frightening. The moon was almost full, and there was enough light to see where we were going. Enough light to produce scary shadows. I shuddered.

A while ago, my companion and I had concluded that we were approximately the same age when we had checked our appearances, glancing in the water of a nearby lake. I had been terrified when my red-haired reflection had stared back at me, because the tall teenage boy with the freckles was a total stranger. What was more, seeing ourselves had not triggered any memories, and we were feeling more helpless than ever.

As we continued our search for help-slash-food, my companion broke the silence. "Must be autumn."

I agreed. It was not cold outside, but there was a hint of a chill in the air.

"At least we're not going to freeze," he added.

"But maybe starve," I replied gloomily.

Before he could answer, a giant shadow fell over us. It belonged to a bear of a man. I caught a glance of a mane of wild hair way above me, and heard the creature roar out like an animal, and for once knew exactly what to do. I turned around and made a run for it.

Only I never got very far.

In one swift movement the grizzly caught the collar of my robes as well as my companion's arm. I was screaming and kicking and turning (trying to bite him), but we were being dragged away. The creature was still roaring. Only when I managed to discern some words, I realized that this giant indeed was a human. That made him the tallest, _hugest_ person I had ever seen … er, I guess.

As he shoved us into a hut and pushed us down on a sofa, he roared, "What do yeh think yer doing, wanderin' around the grounds at night, eh? Really, I thought yeh might have grown out of it. … What's the matter with yeh two? Jus' sittin' there like yeh've never seen me before … Harry?"

"Who?" I blundered out, but my companion poked me with his elbow. Leaning closer to me, he whispered, "He seems to know who we are. Play along."

Confused, but in no shape to offer any resistance, I complied. Harry (as that seemed to be his name) took a deep breath and said, "Er … well, we were … er, just taking a stroll, you know, er… how about you?" He broke off and looked at the giant expectantly.

"I was jus' lettin' Fang out. He likes ter run around the forest at night. Then I saw yeh two, walkin' round the lake. What has gotten into yeh, takin' strolls past curfew? I will walk yeh back ter the castle now. An' I really should report yeh ter the headmaster this time." He turned to me now. "An' when I try and talk ter yeh, Ron here gets all mad an' starts fightin' an' all."

"I'm Ron?" I asked and received another poking elbow in the ribs.

Our new acquaintance shook his head. "Yeh shouldn't be seen, or yeh'll be in trouble. Where's yer Invisibility Cloak, Harry? Yeh should summon it."

Harry looked at me and back at the giant man in front of him, dumbfounded. Then he slowly got up, tugging at my sleeve. "Erm, right. I'll just go and … _summon_ … my _Invisibility Cloak_. Come, Ron. Help me _summon_ my _Invisibility Cloak_." He made for the door, whispering, "Let's get out as quickly as possible."

What can I say? We actually made it to the door of the hut, and we even managed to open it, but we didn't leave.

For standing right in front of it was an enormous black boarhound with its fangs bared at us.

~*~

"And what have we here, heh? Oh …. It's you, Professor."

The ghost was hovering in mid-air, and nothing I did made it disappear. I blinked and shook my head and closed my eyes for a few moments, but after every single one of these desperate actions there was still a ghost hanging in the air in front of me.

The girl had fainted and was lodged somewhere underneath a desk, which indicated she had seen the entity as well. It was quite fascinating, the way it shimmered, the light shining through its translucent form. I was so absorbed in examining the apparition, I didn't at first notice it was addressing me.

When its words sunk in, I was electrified.

"What did you call me, spectre?" I demanded boldly. I was not going to be scared by a vision. Not after all that had happened tonight. Collective mind loss and strange people, staircases that led to nowhere and talking portraits – what was a simple ghost compared to that?

"Oooh, getting angry again, are we?" The ghost floated up and down, the movement the spectral equivalent of jumping. "And I haven't even started calling you anything. Shouting at poor Peeves for patrolling the castle, are we, Professor? Because I'm only doing my duty." It did a somersault.

I drew myself up to my full height (I seemed to be quite tall, judging by the furniture in the room). I was getting annoyed, now that it became obvious that I was in no imminent danger. I raised my voice. "Do you know who I am and what I am doing here?"

"Why, Professor Snape, I have no idea what you are doing here. But as this is your classroom, I reckon I can guess. Or do you care to enlighten me?"

"I am the one to ask questions, spectre. Now tell me what you know."

It didn't answer, because in that moment the girl regained her consciousness. Holding her head with her hands, she tried to sit up. I went over to assist her. Grabbing her arm, I pulled her to a standing position. "Are you okay?" I asked.

She nodded, but almost collapsed again at the sight of the still-hovering ghost. "It's alright, it won't do us any harm," I assured her, not at all sure about the entity's intentions. I just wanted her to stop whining, as this was eating at my nerves.

The ghost in question gave us a look of astonishment. Its pale eyes grew wide, and it floated backwards. "Hold on," it muttered. "You're not … you and that … _Mudblood_?"

"Just tell me what you know about her and me," I demanded again.

"Oh, I've seen enough to get the picture," it spat, floating over to the girl. As it was hanging inches from her face, she backed away. "Miss Granger, I see. Couldn't be just any student, had to be a Gryffindor. A _Mudblood_." It floated to the ceiling. "Oh, but it is perfect." It spiralled down again, halting in front of me. Staring into its eyes and through them at the same time was unnerving, but I couldn't direct my gaze away either.

"All those years of shouting at Peeves. All those years of ordering me around. All those years of chasing the Baron after me when I was just having some fun. You," it pointed a shiny finger at me, "have got a lot of apologizing to do now that I know about her and you."

It shot up again and flew right through the opposite wall. The last thing I heard it shout was, "But I doubt even that will keep me from telling EVERYONE."

I looked at … what had that apparition called her? Miss Granger? She looked thunderstruck.

In a tiny voice, she asked, "What was that?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "But it knew our names."

It had provided us with a lot more information than names, actually. Apparently I was a staff member and … what? … had something going with a student?

This mess was getting messier.

There was an awkward silence, then Miss Granger spoke. "So … what do you think you're teaching?"

The question was meant to dissolve the tension that was building between us, but I realized that I actually wanted an answer to it. "The … _thing_ said this was my classroom. Maybe we should have a look around."

She nodded, and went over to the shelves at the back of the room. I decided to check the desk in front of the blackboard – _my_ desk – so we brought as much distance between us as possible.

Apparently, she was not going to acknowledge the latest revelations about us, and I was most definitely not going to bring up the subject either.

I found myself glancing in her direction every now and then, though, wondering what was really going on between us. It felt strange. I mean, she wasn't even my type.

No, hang on … I didn't know what my type was.

But she wasn't.

~*~

What kind of a person am I?

I mean, am I, like, the kind of girl who'd do, like, kind of … stuff … in order to get good grades?

Hang on, I'm confused.

Mental inventory again.

Everything that vision has said indicates that something inappropriate is happening between me and … _him_.

But: Half an hour ago I wouldn't even have believed in the _existence_ of such a thing as a ghost, and now I'm believing in what a ghost tells me?

But: He _did_ save me from the talking portraits out in the hallway.

But: That might have been impulsive acting and might have nothing to do with me.

But: I _did _wake up on him.

But: …

…

I did wake up on him.

Uh oh.

I glance at him. Oh no, he's glancing back. I look away quickly, and so does he.

Concentrate. Do something productive. Actively improve your situation. Yeah, right. I scan the shelves in front of me, but the contents of the glass jars and beakers don't make sense.

"Look at that stuff. Weird jars of weird things. Weird books with weird titles." I grab the nearest volumes. "Moste Potente Potions. One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi."

He walks over and takes the books from me. Flipping through the pages, he says, "I can't open the desk."

There's little I care less about at the moment. This whole experience is becoming too much. "What does all this mean? Potions? _Magical_ herbs and fungi? Oh, and talking portraits and poltergeists?"

He ignores the question as he becomes absorbed by the potions book. "Quite fascinating," he mutters, "absolutely marvellous."

I try to see what he's reading and catch the headline: Moste Potente Love Potions. "I don't think we need one of _those_," I remark pointedly, and immediately rue it. _Great, Granger. Actively improving our situation, are we?_

"I don't think you're in any position to be cheeky, Miss Granger," he points out, "Considering what I just learned about you."

"I beg your pardon?"

He's all aloofness and righteousness as he looks down on me. "Well, you are a student and I am your teacher, so apparently you were trying to improve …"

"Oh, that is rich coming from you." I'm not going to let him finish that sentence. "The way I see it, you probably seduced me. I should report you."

Have I really just said that?

He seems to be as astonished as I am. "Are you threatening me?" he asks in a low and deadly voice, his face a mask of fury.

From potential lover to potential murderer in less than half a minute. Wow.

I seem to have quite an effect on men.

Author's Note:

So far, so good!

This has previously been posted at WIKTT, with proper author's notes at the beginning of each chapter, but will from now on be continued here. I'll try and update as quickly as possible, but an annoying thing called "Real Life" is tugging at my sleeves, demanding attention. If anyone knows how to get rid of it, I'd appreciate some support.

If you're now feeling entertained, then I succeeded and can go watch the sunrise (another night has gone by while I was writing … see, I'm sacrificing my health for this … nah, just kidding!)

Bye, Lionora!


	6. Revelations

See, I'm updating this after all. The story is already finished in my head, complete with twists and turns and final showdown. I didn't know exactly where I was leading this to when I started, but it sort of developed itself. I'm still taking constructive criticism into account, though.

BTW, a BIG **thank** you** to those who reviewed.**

**fanfilovr: I know, it was a great episode. Must have been hard to come up with something decent after "Once More, With Feeling". Glad you enjoy the story.**

**Redundant Goddess: Well, thanks, I'm flattered. As for the trio – well, you need good evil guys ;)**

**Elyse: A hundred points to you *handsover100pointstoelyse*.**

**Ezmeralda: I know Hermione (as well as about everybody else) is EVER SO SLIGHTLY out of character. I've sacrificed parts of their personalities for the noble purpose of entertainment. I apologize to JKR for toying so mindlessly (literally speaking, hehe) with her characters. I'm glad you're enjoying it nonetheless.**

And without further ado:****

**Revelations**

"And a good night to you as well, Sir Cadogan!" I bid the little knight in the portrait farewell, which earned me another disapproving glance of my generally disapproving colleague. The small canvas hero had finally provided some answers, and I thought it only polite to be … well, polite in return.

As we headed back to the great hall, where we were to meet the other participants in this spell-induced adventure, Minerva asked sharply, "You do not really believe what that picture has told us?"

I turned to her, smiling. "The fact that a picture is talking should be proof enough of what said picture has revealed. If we accept that this is a school of Wizardry and Witchcraft, everything that happened makes sense."

Minerva (Sir Cadogan had told us our names and positions as staff members, and I daresay my companion was less disturbed by the idea of being a witch than by the fact that I was headmaster of a school) shook her head.

"This is ludicrous. It explains nothing. Well, maybe the talking portraits and the moving staircases; but what happened to us?"

"I believe a spell gone wrong might be the cause of our situation. Be that as it may, I suggest we walk back to the great hall and wait for the others. They should be there soon, as the hour has almost passed. Maybe they have found some answers as well. It should be morning soon, and surely we can find help by then."

"I just hope none of them got lost in the castle. Most of them were probably students, which makes us responsible for their safety."

I hid a smile. "Accepting the facts now?"

"Well, even if I remain dubious about the magical aspects of this escapade, I cannot cast aside the fact that this _could be a school. __If it is, and _if _we are truly in charge, then we should take care of the situation, Albus."_

I nodded and walked on in silence. We went back the way we had come, down the moving staircases. It was a long way to the hall. Sir Cadogan's frame was located in quite a distant corner of the castle. When I had enquired about the reason for what seemed like an exile, he had been very reluctant about volunteering any information. He had, however, mumbled something about passwords, and how he had only stepped in when nobody else had dared to. Apparently, he had acted as a guard and let someone in who was not supposed to have access, but from what I could tell this must have happened years ago. I decided to move the picture to a more public space once I had regained my memories and authority.

I do have to admit that this was a pleasant place, though. I was quite cheerful, now that I knew who I was, and where. When I put my hands in the pockets of my robes, I touched several small sticky objects. I took one out and held it in my palm.

"Aah, and this is further good news."

"What is it?" Minerva looked at me. I held the tiny sphere up for her to see.

"Lemon drops. Want one?"

She declined the offer and frowned at me. I sucked on my lemon drop happily, while we made our way back to the starting point of this adventure.

~*~

I do not know how it happened. I promise I don't have a clue.

But it had felt good.

When the gigantic boarhound had closed in on Ron and me, I had drawn a wooden stick from out of my pockets instinctively. Without thinking, I had shouted "_Petrificus Totalus!_" and watched in astonishment as the sparks from my _let's-face-it-it's-a-wand send the beast into oblivion._

We had dashed out. Glancing back, I had seen the giant form of that man crouched over the hellhound, wailing.

And now we were running, not stopping until we reached the castle and got inside safely.

Struggling for breath, Ron turned to me. "What … was that?"

I looked down at the wand I was still holding. "I don't know," I panted. But there was only one explanation, right? This whole wand-business could only mean one thing, right?

"Maybe I'm some kind of superhero."

Ron stared at me, amazed. "Can you do other stuff?"

"How would I know?"

"Well, try something."

I looked around. We were back in the entrance hall, and there were plenty of objects, but I could think of nothing do to with them. I flicked my wand at a chair, but it seemed quite undisturbed by this attempt.

"I can't remember any … incantations or whatever you need to make things happen."

"Think," Ron urged me, but my mind was blank.

"I told you, I don't know. I don't even know how I did it. I wasn't thinking. It all happened so fast, almost like a reflex."

"That giant said something about summoning. He must know about your powers. Can you summon something?"

I pondered the idea. Turning towards the chair again, I tried, "_Come__ here!" in an authoritative voice, but the offending piece of furniture ignored me completely. It also neither reacted to "_I command thee!_" nor to "__Abracadabra!" and I began feeling foolish._

"Doesn't work," I admitted.

Ron looked at me with undisguised awe. "Still, you are, like, a magician, only you're genuine."

I shrugged. "Probably," I conceded modestly.

"Wicked," Ron concluded. Then suddenly, he looked up, "Maybe that's why you've been abducted and brought here. By some … oh, I don't know, some evil sect craving power. They took your mind from you so they can make you use your abilities for their sake."

"What about you?"

"Maybe I have powers as well." He began searching his pockets, but didn't produce a wand. "Maybe I don't need one," he shrugged.

I was doubtful, but didn't want to destroy his illusions. "Possible," was all I said. "Anyway, we should get back to the hall. The others will be there by now, and we should tell them what we found out."

Ron grinned at me. "I doubt what they found out is even half as spectacular as this."

Ah, he was to be so wrong. 

~*~

This is one of the top ten scary moments of my life. I don't care that I don't remember the other nine occasions. This moment is of a very special, very scary quality and deserves to join my most fearful memories as soon as I get them back.

He is glaring at me as if I had just attempted to stab him with a spoon, when all I did was threaten his reputation and career. I mean, come on.

What had he expected anyway? _Oh, yes that's probably it, guess I'm a slut?_

"I suggest you don't threaten me until you are certain, without a shadow of a doubt, that you are the victim in this story," he growls. Wow, he has the most intriguing voice ….

But I won't let him be so condescending without getting back at him. So I turn around, cross my arms and pout.

_Yeah, great, that'll show him, Granger._

I try another strategy. "So you admit it?"

He looks at me as if I've lost my mind (wait … as if?). "Admit what exactly, Miss Granger?"

"Well, you know … that we've got … something going …"

"I certainly don't _admit_ anything, as long as I don't _know_ anything. And I advise you not to jump to any conclusions either."

"So you deny it?"

He raises his hands in desperation. "Will you just drop the subject?"

I see he's losing the last tiny bit of his patience, but I can't stop myself. "But … but …"

Heavy sigh. "Miss Granger, feel free to overcome your speech problem _now_."

"I need to know," I blurt out. "I just … need to know."

Another sigh. "I suggest we head back to the hall. The hour has passed. We should be meeting the others."

"Tell them about our discoveries?"

He raises an eyebrow at me. Oh. Why can't I just keep my mouth shut?

"Not … _that_ discovery, of course," I mumble.

~*~

Her uneasiness in this situation was almost amusing. The thing that was not amusing was my own uneasiness in this situation.

All the time in that classroom, I had tried to acquaint myself with the fact that I had _some_ kind of relationship with that girl.

It explained several things, her waking up on me being among the more prominent ones. But there was also the way she talked back to me. And the tension that I realized was building up between us.

As we walked back to the hall in silence, I noticed that she was keeping close. I wondered whether the sleepy comments of the portraits in the hallway had something to do with it. She did seem to be quite scared.

"Do you think we're keeping it a secret?" she suddenly asked.

I fought the urge to strangle her. Why couldn't she just drop the subject? "Why do you ask?" I snarled.

"Because we woke up in a room with all those people, who are probably staff members and students as well. And we didn't seem to mind them seeing us together before we lost our minds, because otherwise we wouldn't have woken up … erm … you know … the way we did."

She actually had the nerve to blush. Why did she keep perusing this topic, if it was as embarrassing for her as it was vexing to me?

"Now see here, I do not know whether we are hiding our unfortunate liaison or making a public display of it. I don't even know who the initiator is, as you have pointed out earlier. And I certainly don't know anything else. Therefore, it would be a euphemism to say that right now I am annoyed to the very core of my being. So if you wish me to remain civil about our circumstances, I strongly recommend you not to speculate about it anymore."

"Oh," she just said. For a while, we walked on without further interruptions. When we had almost reached the hall, she looked up at me. "Why do you consider our liaison unfortunate?"

Argh … Hermione and Sevvie are still no closer to … you know, whatever they're going to do (*blushesprofusely*). But: there is good reason for that. You'll find out soon enough … mwahahahaha!

Anyway, I got them where I want them now. Everybody's heading back to the Great Hall, and the only question is _who's__ going to get there first? I'm taking bets._

End of stupid Author's Note. Bye.


	7. Seeing Red

It took some time, but now I can proudly present the next chapter. Yay! Thanks again to my wonderful reviewers, you really made me want to write faster [didn't work, I admit, but the good intention is what counts ;) ].

**HunnySnowBunny: Hope your curiosity gets satisfied. Hope this chapter was worth the wait ;)**

**c-fleurbleue: Merci, I'm really flattered if people think it's funny. That's what I'm writing it for.**

**Redundant Goddess: Sorry, no vampires :[ But a lot of tension … Glad that you like it.**

**Rikka: Now you made me blush *blushesandstammersincoherently*. Thanks!**

**Cassandra: Some things never change – too right ;P So glad that you like the story. **

**Seeing Red**

She looked up at me. "Why do you consider our liaison unfortunate?"

I almost did a double-take. What in Heavens name was wrong with that girl? I stared at her incredulously, because I couldn't quite believe she was being serious. But seeing the questioning look in her eyes there was no doubt about that.

"You don't really expect me to answer that?" I growled nonetheless, trying to sound as intimidating as possible. I have to admit that I was quite satisfied with the result.

"Yes, I do."

Hrmphf! So much for intimidation. I had to try another approach.

"Well, in that case, let's see. I am teaching at this school, you are a student. You are probably in one of my classes. I am considerably older than you, judging from our positions in this institution. Still we're having an affair." There, I had said it. "If I asked you to concentrate, could you possibly draw a connection between those facts and my earlier statement?" I added mockingly.

She had apparently not grasped the concept of sarcasm yet.

"Yes, I can understand the obvious reasons for why our involvement is ill-fated. But somehow that didn't stop us from starting it, _Professor."_

"I was under the impression that we had no idea who actually started it. But even so, you may consider it ended now."

 I was her turn to do a double-take. "You're breaking up with me?" She actually had the nerve to sound indignant. "You don't even know me," she complained, "and you're breaking up with me?"

I preferred not to answer, and she didn't peruse the topic. I didn't know how I deserved this blissful silence, but I was grateful that we managed to get to the Great Hall without further discussions.

~*~

"I'm hungry."

"Me, too."

"Shut up, both of you."

"But, Draco …"

"I said _shut up_, Goyle." 

"But I'm really…"

I turned and glared at him. He shrank back from me, but not as quickly as he should have. Oh Merlin, was I losing my edge? This night presented me with the most abject horrors imaginable. Whenever I thought things could not get any worse … well, then they did. It was time to act, and fast.

We had made it back to the Great Hall, which was a miracle considering the fact that we had been touring this castle for over an hour. Really, if Filch was a pest, he was nothing compared to that green eyed fur-ball of his. I swear that the memory of a pair of fluorescent green eyes will haunt me forever. Mrs Norris had showed up three times on our way to the Slytherin common room and twice on our way back to the hall. Each time we had ducked into a corner or hid in a classroom or cupboard. There are no words to describe the horrors one encounters when hiding in a cupboard with Crabbe and Goyle. I'm shuddering at the mere recollection.

Opening the entrance doors to the Great Hall ever so slightly, I realized that more troubles were lying ahead. Our victims were gathered in the hall, so we could not march in and simply reverse the curse.

Damn!

"We need to lure them out."

"But how, Draco?"

"Just be quiet and let me think", I commanded, and they obeyed. The newly established silence gave me a chance to hear the conversation that was going on in the hall. Obviously, the group had woken up without any memories (yeah, the curse had worked, I was a genius), split up and searched the castle. They were just sharing their discoveries when I commenced my eavesdropping. Dumbledore and McGonagall were sitting at the high table, Snape was standing opposite with his arms crossed, a very annoyed look on his face and a very sulking Granger at his side. The duo of Potter and Weasley was lounged in some chairs a little further away.

"So this is a school?" Potter just asked, and Dumbledore nodded. "And you're the headmaster?"

Dumbledore nodded again, and I wondered how in Merlin's name they had found out about that. "And you are a teacher", Potter went on, this time directing his question at McGonagall, "As is my father." Snape nodded slightly at this comment, and I had to keep myself from fainting.

Father?

Hang on now, how much had I really muddled with their brains? Whatever had given them the idea that Snape was Potters father? Now I had another notion to add to what was rapidly becoming a collection of _Unthinkables._

"And what have _you_ found out?" McGonagall now asked Potter and Weasley.

"Harry here is a superhero," Weasley said excitedly, and I fought the urge to smash my head on the doorframe.

"Well, I can do this … stuff," Potter elaborated, and began waving his wand around.

Dumbledore cut in. "As much as I hate to disappoint you, I believe that you are not the only one in the possession of certain powers."

I watched Potter's face fall, as Dumbledore explained about Hogwarts being a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"So you mean to say that we can all … do magic?" That was Granger's voice. She sounded doubtful. "Then why don't _we have wands?"_

"Maybe we lost them during whatever happened before we passed out," suggested Weasley, and I heard shuffling as everyone began searching the hall. It wasn't too long before Professor Snape growled "Here!" and held out a collection of wands. Through the crack between the doors I could see McGonagall and Dumbledore reaching for their wands without hesitation. Even Weasley and the Mudblood managed to identify their wands instinctively.

"And what have we here?" I heard McGonagall ask. Peering inside I saw her holding up a shiny flowing piece of fabric which reminded me of my father's Deatheat- … I mean, his robes for special occasions. Ahem.

Since nobody identified the silvery cloak, it was cast aside for the time being and I made a mental note to investigate this matter later. Right now I was rather busy taking in the latest developments.

My head of house was speaking. "Apart from some encounters with ghosts and talking portraits we have nothing valuable to contribute."

"You have spoken to a ghost?" Dumbledore inquired, positively interested.

"Yes," that was Granger again, "It was quite informative, really."

Professor Snape shot her one of the glances he specially reserved for Gryffindors. It should have glued her to the spot, but she wasn't as impressed as she should have been. Was Snape losing his edge as well? Horrors upon horrors!

"We seem to have been … involved," Granger said, and I began to really worry about what I had done to their minds. I mean, they couldn't be serious, right?

"In what?" Weasley asked.

Potter was quicker on the uptake. "Ugh, you're having an affair with my father?"

Weasley seemed to catch on, "Oh, you mean _with each other?"_

"It is over!" explained Snape through clenched teeth.

"Yak", said Weasley.

I closed the door quietly and turned to my companions.

"We have completely destroyed their sanity," I announced calmly. They looked at me as if this was nothing new – well, in a way it wasn't. Dumbledore had been senile since the day he was born and I suspected Potter to be deranged since You-know-who's curse went ever so slightly wrong.

I decided on a course of action. "I say we charm something in that hall to scare them, and when they've stumbled out we can get in and do the counter curse."

~*~

This had gone badly.

Somehow I had blundered out what was going on between me and _him_, even though I had not intended to.

And now he hated me even more and the two boys – Harry and Ron, as they had called themselves – were disgusted. I couldn't really see why. It was inappropriate, true, but Snape _was_ an intriguing person. I mean, come to think of it, I can see what must have attracted me to him. He had fascinating eyes, a mesmerizing voice and … and I should stop swooning this instant. _Get a grip, Granger._

Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were about to voice their opinions, but never got around to doing so. For suddenly, hell broke loose.

At first, I didn't know what had happened. I heard screeching and rusty clanks, and spun around to face a multitude of attackers. The armoury in the hall had come to life. Hollow knights raised their swords and advanced on us. Now this was bad!

I screamed and headed for the door, closely followed by Ron and Harry. The heavy footsteps of our pursuers indicated they were gaining on us. Professor McGonagall was behind us, shouting, "Get out, stay together!"

I looked over my shoulder before we dashed out and saw Dumbledore and Snape taking up the fight. They had their wands raised, but didn't know what to say. They were backing away towards the doors as well. I couldn't help feeling a pang of anxiety on behalf of … you know …_ him._

Outside in the hallway, Professor McGonagall urged us into a small antechamber and went to help the others. They reappeared within seconds, having given up the fight and decided to run.

We collapsed on the chairs in relief when we heard the metallic steps grow fainter.

"What was this?" Ron panted, and Dumbledore shook his head.

"My guess is as good as yours."

Snape, who was still standing close to the door, looked ready to commit murder. "Foul play, that's what this was."

Before he could elaborate on that, the door was swung open forcefully and he received a blow to the head, which sent him sprawling to the floor. A lonely knight's armour had located our refuge and approached quietly. Now that Snape was helpless on the floor, the knight thing raised its sword.

Not thinking, not knowing what I did, I jumped up. Wand pointed at the attacker, I screamed, "_Finite Incantatum_!" I didn't know where the words came from. I didn't control the way I moved my wrist and flicked my wand. It just happened, and the knight froze in the shower of sparks that shot at him.

Whatever had fuelled it was gone. It was just a lifeless piece of decoration once again.

I dashed over to where Snape was trying to sit up, rubbing the back of his head. All thoughts of reason were forgotten as I launched myself at him.

"Are you alright?" I asked breathlessly, tugging at whatever piece of him I could get my hands on.

He managed to hold me at a distance long enough to regain a standing position. I got up as well.

"Thanks to you. You seem to have remembered a spell."

I just nodded, not taking my eyes off him for a split second.

"Look, I'm sorry!" I blurted out, "For all that I've said. I know you haven't seduced me or anything, and I'm not going to report you, I think this is mutual, or maybe I initiated it, but I don't feel forced or anything and I'm just glad that nothing has happened to you-"

I was positively hysterical, I couldn't stop, I was so relieved that he was okay. I would probably have gone on all night, if he hadn't taken to drastic measures to shut me up.

He leant in and kissed me.

Oh. Oh my god.

This was not your average thank-you-kind of kiss. This was quickly becoming a passionate frenzy.

At first I was shocked, but as the kiss deepened, I cast aside all doubts. As he encircled me in his arms, I allowed my fingers to slip through his hair and bade my sense of reason farewell. Wow, that man could kiss … I closed my eyes and gave in to the sensation of his lips touching mine, his tongue touching mine …

He broke the kiss and looked me in the eyes. I realized I was swaying slightly, and he looked rather breathless himself. I was vaguely aware of the muttered comments from the others (ranging from a disapproving "ahem" from McGonagall to retching sounds from Harry and Ron). Nothing of that mattered right now, not with that man in front of me, these eyes, these lips … There was a hunger in his eyes which was partly disturbing and partly turning me on.

Before I had time to reassemble myself, we were kissing again.

He didn't look like he was ever going to stop.

Well, neither was I.

~*~

It was hilarious to see them scramble out of the Great Hall. The enchanted armoury followed them down the hallway, and we could slip into the hall unseen.

"Right, now position yourselves in the exact places as before," I ordered. "This is going to restore their memories instantly, so we will have to be careful to get away quickly. We don't know how far they've gone, and we _must not be caught_."

Father would kill me. Or worse, he might tell mother. I shuddered at the thought (shuddering at thoughts was becoming a very disturbing habit).

We established eye contact, and intoned the words at the same time.

"QUIDQUID LATET APPAREBIT!"

Again, ribbons of light sparkled from our wands and met in the middle.

Now, whatever they were doing, they would instantly get back all their knowledge about themselves and all of their memories.

Whatever they were doing.

*********

Author's Note (short and pointless):

Hehehe …

Oh, by the way, tell me what you think. Thanks.


	8. Coping

Whoa, people, thanks for the great reviews. I was so flattered, I sat down and wrote most of this chapter at once. Unfortunately, real life struck me down again, as my university courses have started again. Argh! I've spend the last days in an underground lab [alas, no dungeons with Sevvie :( ], trying desperately not to blow myself up. Honestly, I'm more of a Neville Longbottom than a Hermione Granger when it comes to organic chemistry. I have a history of killing beakers, and my insurance company hates me. I only got by because I was having your lovely reviews at the end of the day to build me up again.

Writing this chapter was chaotic, because Sevvie and Hermione kept talking at the same time, each urging me to write down their thoughts first and observe their inner monologues _now,_ _please. I think the turmoil in their heads is mirrored in this chapter, as I've been jumping through tenses and points of view quite wildly. Tell me if it was too confusing. And prepare for the finale, which is getting ever closer … (grinsevillyandrunsofftoexplodeanotherbeaker … *ka-pow*)_

**HunnySnowBunny****: Sorry for the wait, but I don't believe in posting something that I haven't slept over. As for the saving part, I just couldn't resist ;) Loads of thanks for your great reviews.**

**Cassandra: Wow, I'm glad you read it through before sending me a howler. I could never have made them break up like that, but for tension's sake … I love your reviews, they really make my day :)**

**Ramos: *Sigh* Can't you just imagine it … *swoonsatthethoughtofkissingSevvie***

**BadBoyLover****: You've won the … erm … fanfic-cup? I bow to you.**

**Girly-Vamp: Here you go… enjoy!**

**Serenity Raye: Ah, so sorry, but I believed it was time for them to see each other as who they really are. And trust me, they will have to do **a lot** of working on their relationship as it is ;)**

**Clarity: Thank you, hope you'll enjoy the next bit.**

**Andrian****: Hehe, maybe I should have incorporated them as well…**

**Trisana**** Moonstream Granger: Thank you soooo much. I'm so glad you like it.**

**Redundant Goddess: Now that was an evil laugh … do I sense a streak of malicious glee there? Thanks for the review.**

**Arwen**** Undomiel: I loved that ep too, it was too funny. And yes, Snape is great. I love writing him ;)**

**Patatita****: Here you are. And thank you for the nice review.**

**Saintly Smile: End in sight. Not yet, though. But of course I won't leave them there, I'm too evil not to delight in their reactions, hehehe.**

I hope I didn't miss anyone. Thank you to all who reviewed, you are great!!! And without further ado, I give you *dramaticdrumsolo* **chapter eight!**

***********************

**Coping**

I didn't know what I believed in when I had access to my personality – but right now I was praying desperately to whatever was listening that the imposing dark-haired professor was no relative of mine. I mean, apart from the fact that Harry Snape was an outrageous crime of a name, who would want an overgrown bat lusting after girls half his age as a father?

What was he thinking? He was teaching at this school! I wondered if witnessing his "display of affection" would leave me with some kind of neurotic behavioural aberrations once I was myself again.

Luckily, Ron was there to share my point of view.

"This is so disgusting", he whispered to me, gagging. "It's making my eyes hurt!"

"Let's get out!" I answered, feeling nauseous, too.

We left the antechamber, carefully checking for any murderous knights before entering the deserted hallway. Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall followed us. I was surprised by that.

 "I did indeed believe getting out was a good idea, as some of us apparently craved some privacy." Professor Dumbledore offered by way of explanation. Come to think of it, had he actually looked at the pair of them with an amused twinkle in his eyes? He certainly could not be approving of … well, this thing they were doing? Something about it felt so wrong.

Luckily, Professor McGonagall shared my point of view as well (and something about _this_ felt very wrong, too). "Really, Albus, do you think we should tolerate this kind of behaviour?" she whispered, loud enough for all to hear.

The headmaster did not reply to this, but turned to me instead. "Harry, you have already done some magic tonight. Do you remember the spell?"

When I nodded, he asked me about the circumstances of my using it, and what exactly it had done, and so I told him.

"A giant man with a boarhound you say? And he knew your names?"

"He even knew about Harry's powers", Ron stated, and beamed at me.

Professor Dumbledore seemed to ponder this. "Something tells me we have an excellent source of information there. Do you think you could find that hut again?"

Ron shrugged, "I was kind of … er … busy trying to stay alive when he dragged us there, but I guess we could try."

"Fabulous!" the old wizard exclaimed in a way that was definitely not old-wizardish.

"And what will you do about the armoury, should it intend to harass us again?" Professor McGonagall asked pointedly.

"We will have to proceed with caution, of course, but even in the case of another attack I believe we are effectively protected by the spell Harry remembered."

"And … ahem … er? … I mean, what about _them?" I spluttered incoherently, embarrassment and a revolting stomach getting in the way of adept articulation. "We can't just leave them here, can we?"_

I noticed that sparkle in the headmaster's eyes again, as he replied, "I believe they are effectively protected by the spell Miss Granger remembered."

So we trotted off past the Great Hall again and towards the front doors. Wherever the knights had gone to, they did not show up again.

The moment we passed the doors to the hall, we noticed the lights.

I wondered what that about, but-

~_quidquid_ latet apparebit_~_

- then again, Hogwarts had always been a place full of mysteries. As long as Dumbledore and McGonagall were with us, I had at least nothing to fear. Maybe it was just Peeves.

… ?

What…?

I was myself again.

I stared at Ron, whose face registered the same shock I felt. "You're … Harry", he stammered. "And I'm … Ron Weasley. I have a lot of brothers. And … a sister. I had a rat once, but it turned out to be a dark wizard. Now I have an owl, which your godfather gave me when he went into hiding because he was a convicted mass murderer."

Yep, that about summoned up Ron's life. And most of mine, except for the living-with-horrible-Muggles-for-the-summer-because-humanitiy's-archnemesis-killed-my-parents-part.

Nobody spoke for a while, as we all took in the rush of memories into our brains. Suddenly, Dumbledore's chuckle broke the silence.

"My apologies, but I just got back the memory of hearing this truly hilarious joke. A hag, a leprechaun and a troll all go into a bar and the troll asks, do you want to see my …"

"Albus," McGonagall admonished (she didn't seem to have needed much time to recover from becoming herself once again. Maybe she was at ease with her past. Or a very controlled person), "Someone has been tampering with our minds. We need to find the culprit."

Still chuckling softly, Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, you are quite right, Minerva."

I glanced at Ron again. "What is this all about?"

"Dunno", he shrugged. "But at least nothing bad has happened."

Suddenly, his eyes widened in alarm. "Except…"

Then it hit me too. "Oh, Merlin, Ron…"

He nodded, "You have knocked out Fang. Hagrid will be furious."

I fought the urge to shake him. "Not that. I'm talking about Hermione!"

Ron's eyes grew even wider. Maybe they would pop out. "Oh my…", he whispered.

I nodded gravely. "Hermione's been kissing Snape."

Not even McGonagall's most audacious look could stop Ron from going into a tirade about the Potions Master which he surely would not have survived, had said Potions Master been present.

~*~

It had been a quick decision. A good one, I might add.

Once she had stopped the suit of armour from killing me and then went into a fit of hysterics expressing her concerns, I had a sudden flash of inspiration about what must have attracted me to her in the first place. Standing there, raging about my well-being, she no longer was just an unbearably curious source of annoyance. Instead, I was confronted with someone caring about me (I didn't know why _this_ felt so strange. Maybe I was some kind of lone wolf … wait … wolf … that rang another bell …), who had furthermore just displayed rather impressive magical skills. And she _was_ a beautiful young woman, once she had abandoned this helpless and forlorn look she had worn for most of the night. Apart from that, it wasn't as if she was a stranger to me. We probably had a history of more than just waking up on each other.

Plus I really wanted her to stop ranting.

So I kissed her.

I could tell she was surprised, because she flinched slightly. Instinctively, I pulled her towards me with determination. I was not going to let her get away so easily. To say that she recovered quickly would have been an understatement. To say that she was responsive would have been the mother of all understatements.

Then again, I knew that we did have some practise in this. We must have, because we were definitely good at it by now. I found myself wondering how far we had gone in the past. Had we … I mean, did I … well, did we?

Judging from my subjective point of view (and I'm referring to verypersonal sensations here) … well, as far as I was concerned, _I_ could have eaten _her_ on the spot. And I was registering no signs of objection from her. But with the eyes of my employer and colleague on us, I settled for pressing her to me and let my hands take an inventory. She was foreign territory after all, even though I had probably explored it quite thoroughly before.

I was not even really aware of the others slipping out of the room. I had no idea where they were going, but for all I cared they could have been heading straight into an oncoming train. I was occupied.

And somehow in the middle of it all, my left sleeve slipped up on my arm to reveal a skull on my skin, with what looked like a snake protruding from its mouth.

"You've got a tattoo?" Miss Granger asked, breaking the kiss but not the embrace. I scowled down at the skeleton head. It was disgusting.

"Apparently. Well, that's very … progressive of me."

"At least it's not a heart with an arrow and my name on it", she teased. Now there was a terrifying notion!

"At least, in that case, we would have known your first name," I teased her back, but she only smiled. Inching closer to my face again, she whispered,

"You can call me anything you like", before she kissed me again. The thought of pet names crept into my head, and I recoiled inwardly.

And suddenly …

_~quidquid latet apparebit~_

I realized that the head of Slytherin House was kissing the infamous Hermione Granger, Hogwarts resident know-it-all and Muggle-born Gryffindor.

And I recoiled outwardly as well.

~*~

I'm going to be expelled!

I'm going to be expelled just weeks before graduation, for killing a faculty member. Because after what has just happened, I can't possibly let Snape live, can I?

The way he's glaring at me, I'm in mortal danger myself.

Oh Godric!

If I knew how, I'd obliviate myself on the spot. But they don't teach that spell at Hogwarts, because students would constantly make their teachers forget about detentions and assigned homework.

I don't know why, but suddenly I was Hermione Granger again, and it's about the last person on earth I want to be. So if I could, I would gladly go back to my pre-enlightened state of mind and forget who I am for good.

He's still staring at me. Where my muffled groans could be heard only moments ago, there's now a silence one could cut with a knife. Why doesn't he say something? Anything?

Then I realize it. He's completely at a loss. This man, whose biting remarks have never once failed to hit home, doesn't know what to say. This discovery frightens me more than everything else.

He's taking another step backwards, and I force myself to look away from the shock imprinted on his face. A face that was _very_ close to mine just seconds ago.

Oh, shut it! If I want to survive this with my sanity intact, I'll have to enter the stage of repression just about _now. … … … Hmpf! Doesn't work!_

And that's not the worst, is it? For there's this part of me – this very, very, very secluded, stupid, primeval, irresponsibly hedonistic part of me – which still marvels at the sensation of his lips on mine.

And wants to feel it again.

I said shut it! Wow, my mind definitely needs to be cleaned up. Too many things going on simultaneously. By now, I have identified two main voices in my head, one of which is screaming in agony because I kissed my evil potions professor, while the other one is musing along the lines of _Wow, I never guessed he could kiss like that._

The turmoil in my head is interrupted by the Potion Master's voice. "Ahem …", he says. Well, I've come _that far in my thought process as well, but thanks for mentioning it._

"I assume you have regained your memories as well?" he asks, with the politest sharp voice I have ever heard him use. He must be just as embarrassed as I am. No, wait, he kissed me first. He must be even more embarrassed than I am.

"I take it we have seriously misjudged the situation", he continues, proving once again that he is tremendously skilled when it comes to the art of understatement.

Quite frankly, I don't know what to say, and the neurons in my brain are still dazed by the overload of sensations I felt just a few moments ago. So I settle for nodding again. It's not that I don't trust my voice. It's just that I … don't trust my voice. It could betray me and say something like, "Oh, never mind, but could you kiss me again?" For that's the real crux – I feel bad because Professor Snape has kissed me.

But I feel worse because he stopped.

~*~

The bad thing is that I have been kissing a student. And not just any student, but Hermione Granger, the bookworm, the embodiment of smugness, the _Gryffindor prize student_.

The worse thing is that I've enjoyed it.

It is true that I have developed an interest in that girl over the last year. It was somehow inevitable, what with her standing out in class the way she did, brewing the most vicious potions with ease. I could not help but notice her. And I'm talking of really noticing her. One day, she was a clever girl, the next, a stunningly brilliant and beautiful young woman. After that, I have spent so much time staring at her working that I could conjure up an image of her face, tense with concentration, at any given time. I guess this image will be replaced by another one in fantasies to come. I can still see her, clinging to me, wanting me …

And here's the worst thing. Because whatever has prompted her passionate actions, it will be gone by now. She has been there, and is out of reach again. Leaving me with the bitter knowledge of what it could be like.

~*~

The bad thing is that I've been kissing what should be the most revolting man on the planet.

The really bad thing is that I'm not revolted. I'm half embarrassed, half dejected – and half ecstatic.

There is nothing I can say to defend myself. I have liked every single second of it. In the last few hours, I have come to see Severus Snape from a new perspective, and it somehow deprived him of his more frightful qualities.

My assessment of him was up to now based on my first impressions of him, which were quite disastrous. But I'm wondering now – if I had never let Harry talk me into suspecting him of trying to steal the Sorcerer's Stone, would I ever have learned to mistrust him? I certainly didn't fear _him_ when we were exploring the castle this night. And if Ron had never hated him – would I ever have disliked him? Ok, maybe after his remark about my teeth. Right. I hate him. 

And I don't. And that's the thing labelled "really, really bad". Because now I can't stop thinking about him, and what it is like to be in his arms. Which is exactly where a rampant fraction of my brain is planning on placing myself again.

~*~

What does one say in a situation like this?

I have toyed with the idea of deducing several thousand house points from her for inappropriate behaviour, but I doubt she would have taken that silently. And silence is the only thing standing between me and utter humiliation right now.

So I try to make her understand this simple fact.

"Miss Granger, you are aware of the precarious situation this affair leaves me in?"

She raises an eyebrow at me. Oh. Bad choice of words on my part. Now that's a first. "I mean, it's not an affair. Well, it is, but we're not having one. You're getting the point, aren't you?" I'm getting impatient.

"As I've said before, there's no need to be so condescending. After all, I wasn't the one who started this," she reminds me. Well, that won't go unrewarded.

"No, and neither were you the one to end it," I snap, "Now, I believe we agree on keeping this … business … shrouded?"

"Like this was a snogging session one would brag about. I can just see myself discussing the matter with Lavender: _Yeah, I've had Professor Snape's tongue in my mouth and it really, really __turned me on," she snorts (being the fast learner that she is, she has already mastered the technique of derisive snorting from just spending some quality time with a Slytherin). _

"So we are agreed on this?" I repeat harshly. 

She nods, and I feel about as relieved as I was when got back the memory of not being Potter's father. "We should be finding the others, then, and settle this matter. Someone will have hell to pay for this. And you can tell Potter and Weasley to keep their mouths shut if they value their lives."

I really should obliviate them, but I know Dumbledore will oppose to this. Sometimes I hate being in his debt … no, wait, I _always resent being in his debt. _

I sweep around, making sure that I look impressive and intimidating, and head for the door.

And I stop.

And turn around.

"Did you just say _and it really, really turned me on_?"


	9. In The Twilight State

See, I told you I'd continue. Fact is, I had this almost finished, but then got struck down by a killer case of the flu (that is a cute word actually, flu! Sounds like a fluffy little animal with cuddly fur ------ "Aw, look at that cute little flu." – "Just check out its little red running nose." – "Did you hear it cough? Isn't that sweet? And did you see its cute fever?" – "Awwww…") Ahem … thoughts like these occur to people who are sick, so don't give me those looks.

Anyway, no need to tell you how great you are, but I'll do it anyway:

**Serenity Raye:** Whoever said I wasn't cruel ;) Thanks for the review.

**Altagracia****: Thanks heaps!**

**SaintlySmile****: Er … that three-halves-thing was actually supposed to be funny. It was supposed to illustrate how confused Hermione is … sorry if I didn't get it across that way. Apart from that, I'd say, yay the reviewers!**

**Redundant Goddess:** Thanks, you keep flattering me [good for my ego, this;) ]

**Elyse****: Yep, Dumbledore's one of my favourites to write, cause he can be anything from inhumanely wise to incredibly ridiculous. Thanks for the lovely review, I was worried the last chapter might be too confusing.**

**Arwen**** undomiel: *blushes* why, thank you! The idea hit me when I watched Tabula Rasa for the second time while reading GoF for the fourth. Figures, eh?**

**Tiani****: I like cliffies, that's why they're everywhere in my stories – I'm mean, I know. But thanks for the review; I love to be called an evil genius … muahahaha.**

**HunnySnowBunny****: So sorry for the delay. Hope you don't send me Howlers en masse, they always piss off the neighbours. Thank you for all of your reviews.**

**Patatita****: Wow, it's such a compliment when people actually laugh about it. That's the sole purpose I'm writing it, and I'm glad I succeeded ;) Thanks!!**

**DragonFly****: It's not over, here's more (I'm mean, but even I wouldn't leave it like that). Thanks!**

**Smile7499:** More is here. About the trollop – you're probably right there. But I couldn't resist using that line. Thanks for the review.

This is the last chapter, actually. But there will be an epilogue, so be sure to check back for it.

Enjoy!

***************

**In The ****Twilight****State******

"Can we go to the kitchens before we head back?" Crabbe whispered pleadingly.

I didn't answer. A while ago, I had decided to change my strategy of survival, and my new plan involved ignoring my companions unless they had something valuable to contribute … So it actually involved ignoring them completely.

Therefore, I just pressed my ears to the doors and tried to make out the sounds from the hallway. I was beside myself by now, because things were going so utterly wrong that I wondered whether maybe I had been hit with a _Bad Luck Curse. Maybe I shouldn't have pushed that Ravenclaw Seeker off her broom during last week's Quidditch practise after all … they certainly knew their curses, Ravenclaws …_

"Draco, what do I look like?" Goyle asked behind me. Since I was really determined to go with the new _ignoring-plan, I didn't even bother to turn around. Even though I was dying to hit Goyle with various large objects for asking a question as pointless as this one. I mean, every mirror in the building gave nothing but dejected sounds when either one of my companions bothered to look into one._

Fact was, we had successfully reversed the memory-curse, but were now stuck in the Great Hall as the former victims of said curse gathered in front of it. I couldn't make out what was being said, but was able to distinguish McGonagall's voice. We had not made it out of the hall before the enchanted knights had chased them far enough, and now they were back. 

"Won't you tell me what I look like?" Goyle went on.

I turned around angrily, wand raised to his face, ready to fire a salve of hexes … only his face wasn't where it was supposed to be.

"Goyle? Where the hell are you?"

"Here. What do I look like?"  
"Oh, shut up about your looks! Where are you?"

And suddenly, Goyle's head was floating in front of me, and I stumbled backwards and landed unceremoniously on the hard floor. So did Crabbe, but he landed softer (due to the fact that he chose to collapse on me).

"What the …"

"Doesn't it look cool?"

Due to my very unique multi-tasking skills, I managed to disentangle myself from Crabbe, scramble away from the floating head, muffle Crabbe's scream and stifle my own. All in the heart-beat it took the rest of Goyle to join his head. He held out a freshly-obtained arm and pushed a silvery cloak in my face.

I had seen this before; McGonagall had held it up earlier. It had reminded me of my father's death-eat- … er, deadly chic robes. Anyway, she must have discarded it when the knights had begun to charge.

Getting up, I advanced on the now fully limb-equipped Goyle.

"Where did you find it?"

"It was just lying on that chair. I put it on. Why did you back off? Didn't you think it suited me?"

I felt my trademark-evil-grin spread on my face as the realization of what this cloak was dawned on me. The super villain was in charge again.

"I think I just found us a way out of this," I informed them, feeling really villainous.

See, told you I was an evil mastermind. And next week, I'm going to push that Ravenclaw Seeker off her broom _twice._

~*~

"Never mind", I mumbled weakly, while every single drop of blood in my body chose to rush to my cheeks.

He was not deterred by that, and I hadn't really expected him to be. There's this wicked half-grin he wears when he is enjoying someone else's misery. Usually he reserved this for Neville, Harry and Ron (in this order), but right now it was directed at me.

"No, please feel free to elaborate, Miss Granger," he replied, as if I had been reciting the twelve uses of dragon blood instead of voicing my excitement about kissing him.

"Well, there's no harm done, right? We should be meeting the others, as you've said." I started walking past him, but before I reached the door, he grabbed my arm, forcing me to look at him.

I remember dinner with my parents one day when I was about seven years old. We'd had chicken, and I had almost choked on a little bone. For one terrible moment, I had been stiff with terror, my throat jammed with the piece of bone, my breath cut off so swiftly and completely between inhale and exhale that I could not even gasp. I had been paralysed until my dad had held me upside down and the chunk in my throat had somehow lodged and the air had rushed into my lungs again.

It was a bit like that, now.

Except for the air-rushing-in-my-lungs-part.

Because the instant our eyes met, I was caught again between inhale and exhale, unable to move or make a sound.

He was not saying anything either, but glued me to the spot with his gaze. I could not really interpret his expression, but that might have been due to the fact that the neurons in my brain were successively shutting down. They shot me some incoherent thoughts like "_… really … most intriguing eyes_" and "_…_ _I know, it's a bad idea to kiss him again … but can't remember why…"_

I was strangely aware of his hand on my arm. Now that I knew who we were, this touch seemed more intimate than all the kissing before.

And I knew no one was going to hold me upside down this time, to get me back to my senses and make my brain lodge back into place.

~*~

"We need to save her, Harry!" Ron Weasley exclaimed. Harry Potter nodded, looking shaken. And while I understood their agitation, I understood the workings of the headmaster's mind as well. So I was not in the least surprised to hear Albus object.

"Mr Weasley, I believe Miss Granger has found herself in graver situations before. I think we should not embarrass the two of them further and trust them settle this on their own."

The boys seemed furious, and failed to notice the amused twinkle in Albus' eyes. I felt obliged to intervene, "Albus, do you think this is wise?"

"Would you like a lemon drop?"

"I mean, what in Merlin's name has given them the idea …?"

"They are really pleasantly refreshing."

"We should at least find out whether they have gotten their memories back as well."

 "A bit sour at first, but they get sweeter as you suck on."

"Albus, will you _please_ stop talking about lemon drops now?"

He looked at me as if he was seeing me for the first time. "Excuse me, Minerva, but did you just say something? Anyway, we should consider our actions concerning this whole matter." With that he turned to the two young Gryffindors, who were still fuming, and left me wondering whether he – once again – knew more than everyone else combined.

Because he couldn't really be as mad as he acted, now could he?

~*~

I'm too good a person, really. It runs in the family, too. Malfoys have a history of getting into trouble because of acting kindly. Just take my father for example. Dedicated to preserving knowledge and skills for generations to come, never asking for anything in return – and all he ever gets is bad attitude from people accusing him of storing dark artefacts and books.

Or take me. I really should have left Crabbe and Goyle to scramble out of this on their own, taken the Invisibility Cloak we'd found and made a run for it. The only reason why I didn't do exactly this was because I was too nice.

And, well, because if they were caught, everyone would be able to guess who was _really behind this. I mean, the whole thing more or less had "evil piece of brilliance" written all over it, and that was a major Malfoy giveaway._

Never mind it had failed.

But wait, actually it hadn't failed. It was still in the process of failing.

Anyway, I had not left the two morons behind. So now I was struggling for air, cramped under the cloak with these stupid oversized creatures, not able to steer our progress and navigate us away from our former curse targets. It was actually a miracle that we had made it out of the hall unseen, what with Dumbledore, McGonagall and Potter and Weasley in front of it.

It was no miracle whatsoever that we didn't get past them.

Seeing the headmaster, Crabbe began to panic. I really had tried to make him grasp the concept of invisibility, but his brain was apparently unable to accept the fact that he could not be seen by those he encountered. Now as he was backing away, I was trying to pull him on, and Goyle stood transfixed to the spot, not knowing what to do. And that blasted coat was too small to contain a Crabbe-and-Goyle-sized struggle. I tried to point my wand at Crabbe, but lost my delicately-preserved balance. When I reached for Crabbe's collar for support, things happened very fast.

Frightened, Crabbe jerked backwards as I got hold of him, pulling me towards him. With Goyle acting as an axis, we went into a lop-sized semi-circle, spinning around until we were catapulted right into Potter and Weasley.

~*~

"Ouch!"

"What the … aarrgh!"

"Get off me, Malfoy."

"Can't … ouch!"

"Ron?"

"I'm down here! … Er, help?"

"Where's my wand?"

"Dunno. Wait, here's mine."

"That's not yours, Weasel."

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy. Just wait until I can move my arm enough to point it at you."

"Right, get lost, Malfoy. And get off my leg."

"Can't, Potter. Crabbe, will you just move?"

"But Draco, Goyle's too heavy."

"Goyle! Get off!"

"I can't, Draco," he whimpered, "I don't have legs anymore."

Entertaining as it was, I decided to put the Gryffindors out of their Sytherin-induced misery and removed the shiny piece of fabric from Mr Goyle's legs. A few flicks of wand later, they were all upright again, and already dying to jump at each other's throats.

Since young Malfoy and his minions had so abruptly decided to materialise out of thin air and fall onto Mr Potter and Mr Weasley, I had a sudden inspiration about the source of tonight's confusion.

"I believe the culprits have revealed themselves, Minerva." I held up the cloak. "And I believe they were trying to escape by means of this."

Minerva's mouth became the straightest line I have ever seen, and this is counting the time when I gave Severus a pair of red-and-gold socks for Christmas.

"Explain yourselves," she demanded of the Slytherins.

"We've done nothing wrong," Draco Malfoy began, and I was amused by this doomed attempt at feigning innocence, even though the matter was too serious to be taken lightly. For if I guessed correctly, the trio had tampered with a memory curse known as "Confutatis", which was designed to deprive the target of personal memories. Invented by one of Voldemort's followers in order to create an improved version of Deatheaters, the curse was considered unethical and its use prohibited, even if it did not rank with the Unforgiveables. The curse was plainly dangerous, and even Lucius should have known better than teach his brat potent dark magic such as this.

"You think we believe this crap?" Ron Weasley cut in, and I felt obliged to raise a hand and intone "Language, Mr Weasley!" in a benign-headmaster sort of voice.

Malfoy looked ashen by now, but he dared another try. "We just wanted to … get something … from the kitchens. Sorry about breaking the curfew, it won't happen again."

To his very great distress, his friends tried to help. "Yes, that's right, we didn't cast the memory curse," Crabbe added. "Ouch! What did you do this for, Draco?"

"I believe this settles it. You have been using dark magic at Hogwarts, willingly endangering others, breaking more rules than I can even count right now. You are in more trouble than you can even begin to imagine at the moment. This calls for severe punishment." I had hardly ever seen Minerva this agitated. She looked exactly like she had on that day three years ago when we had stunned Crouch after the Triwizard Tournament. Or like the time when she got stuck in her Animagus form and had to put up with Sirius, in _his_ Animagus form, chasing her around the grounds.

Malfoy seemed to anticipate his imminent expulsion from Hogwarts, and went even paler. The Gryffindors were putting heroic efforts into hiding their malicious smirks from me, and I did them the favour and pretended not to notice.

Instead, I contemplated a thought that had just crossed my mind. Severe punishment.

"Minerva," I said, "I think I know just the person to deal with this."

~*~

When we entered the antechamber where we had left Hermione and the evil slimy bastard, two things became obvious at once.

First, contrary to common believes, Draco Malfoy has feelings like any other human being. He expressed them by gagging, retching and collapsing in the floor.

The reason he did this was: Second, neither Hermione nor the e.s.b. had gotten their memories back yet. They were still kissing.

"Ourgh!" was all Malfoy said, before he decided to slump down on the carpet. There he sat, staring emptily into space, trying to avoid reality. Crabbe and Goyle, not as gifted when it came to reactions, settled for staring emptily at their head of house kissing one of my best friends.

I looked at Ron, and saw the repulsion I felt mirrored in his face.

"They still don't know who they are," he said anxiously. "Maybe we should get them to the hospital wing."

"That's not a bad idea, you know. We can have a huge supply of disinfectants and some calming charms ready, for when Hermione gets her memories back."

"Thanks a lot, Harry, but I doubt this will be necessary," Hermione replied, breaking the kiss to glare at us. "I know perfectly well who I am, and what I am doing."

Ron's eyes went as big as saucers. "You…"

I felt my mouth open, but no coherent words came out, "But…"

We must have looked like idiots. Professor Snape raised an eyebrow at us, looking expectant and somewhat smug. Hermione looked a bit ruffled, and I didn't dare imagining the reasons for this. The way she was clinging to Snape's arm was telling volumes.

Professor Dumbledore's voice broke the shocked silence. "Severus, sorry as I am to disturb you, I believe I have a few students for you to deal with. It appears some members of your house saw fit to subject us to the Confutatis Curse." Glancing in the headmaster's direction, I got the impression that the twinkle in his eyes was more amused than ever. Could he really be enjoying all this to some extent?

Professor Snape's expression was unreadable, but he was meeting Dumbledore's eyes. 

"I will take care of this," Snape said slowly, gesturing to the three dumb-founded Slytherins.

"Fabulous. This is settled, then. Now, I believe it is time for us to put the rest of the night to good use," Dumbledore turned to Ron and me. "Back to the dormitories, and try to get some sleep." He looked positively delighted by the way things had turned out. Wasn't he going to sack Snape, or at least rescue Hermione?

But on second glance, Hermione didn't give the impression of someone who wanted to be saved, did she? She and Snape were gazing at each other, and the look in their eyes was making me sick. But Ron and I were pushed out of the room by Dumbledore, who even managed to get a protesting Professor McGonagall to come with us, while the Slytherins where left with Snape and … Hermione?

"We have to wait for Hermione, Professor!" I admonished as we began heading back.

Dumbledore beamed at me. "Would you like a lemon drop, Harry?"

"No, thank you," I said irritably, "I would like to wait for my friend to come with us."

"They are very tasty, and they take your mind from things you shouldn't worry about." He gave me a meaningful glance. I opened my mouth to protest, but he raised his hand. "No, Mr Potter, no more debates tonight. Bed. Now. Both of you."

I turned to Ron, who had a greenish tinge to his face. He shrugged at me. I had nothing to say, either. So we just followed Dumbledore and McGonagall to the Gryffindor tower, dumb-struck.

When McGonagall leaned closer to the headmaster, I strained to make out was being said. "You really think this is a good idea, don't you?" I heard her say.

"I have no reason to mistrust Severus," he answered. Well, I could have given him a hundred good ones on the spot, most of them beginning with _former_ and ending with _deatheater_. Plus the man was a biased, slimy bastard!

McGonagall was not deterred. "And you think we should just turn a blind eye?"

"Oh, I actually intend to throw an eye on them, from time to time," he smiled, "but I firmly believe they will work out just fine."

"Albus, much as I respect you opinion, I have to say that this matter-"

"Why don't you have a lemon drop, Minerva?"

~*~

Once we were left with the Sytherins, I began to feel a bit self-conscious. After all, those were Malfoy and his minions.

I needn't have worried. Severus was verbally turning them into mincemeat.

"Astonishing as it is that half-wits such as you managed a curse like the Confutatis, the fact remains that you violated the minds of others," he growled. "You will be serving detentions until graduation for this offence."

I saw a smile creep into Malfoy's face. He must have been relieved not to be expelled. Severus had noticed, too.

"Don't get your hopes too high, Mr Malfoy. Before long, you will find yourselves wishing I had expelled you. I believe Mr Filch has some rather nasty business in the Forbidden Forest to be dealt with, and I'll be happy to hand him some assistants."

At the mention of this, Malfoy's face fell and he began to tremble. I savoured the moment, urging my inner eye to take a snapshot and file picture away for future reference. Something to warm me on a cold winter's night. Meanwhile Severus (when had I started to think of him as Severus? Just some hours ago he was "the black bat-like scare-crow". Marvel at the capacities of the human mind!) gestured to the door.

"Out!" he ordered, "Now! You have wasted enough of my time."

The trio made a dash for the door, almost falling over themselves to get out.

When the door clanked shut, we were alone again.

Insufferable know-it-all that I am, first thing I did was ask him a question. "Why didn't you expel them?"

He looked down at me. Softly, but with a deadly smile, he said, "Never go for the kill when you can go for the pain."

"Ah," I said, very unsure of what to make of this. "I guess I'll have to work on the Slytherin mind in the foreseeable future."

If possible, the deadly smile became more lethal. "Why don't you start working on the Slytherin body?"


	10. Epilogue: Another Morning

Hi, everyone. Here's the end, as promised. You know that I love you for reading this, and especially for reviewing :)

**eegurl: Thanks heaps! Maybe you should get a copy of that episode? It's my guess you'll enjoy it.**

**Ramos**: I'm so flattered that you think it's funny. You know that Hinge of Fate was what made me an H/S shipper? I treasure this story.

**Redundant Goddess**: Your reviews never fail to make my day. And thanks for the pin, it was much needed :)

**Malva**: Thanks. I love Draco, and it's just so delighting to make him receive his share of suffering (I know, I'm mean … but hey, so is he!)

**DragonFly**: More is here. Thanks for reviewing.

**SaintlySmile**: That was a cool review. Now I'm stuck with the idea of glomping Draco … thanks for giving me weird mental images :)

**smile7499**: Thanks, I love him (well, duh, who doesn't?). He's great, and so are reviewers (that means you, btw).

**Andrian**: Delicious? Yay! Here's the rest of it!

**Ezmeralda**: And guess who was squealing with delight when reading your lovely review? You're great, thanks.

**Tiani**: It's great that it made you laugh … sorry for the cliffie though, I seem to be unable to resist them … it's like an addiction … got to work on myself ;) Thanks for reviewing,

**Epilogue: Another Morning**

Apparently, there is a Muggle song with a verse saying "How in the light of one night did we come so far?" I would know, because Hermione is constantly humming it to herself, singing softly while she's in the shower or combing her hair (I would never have guessed she actually combs it. And not only combs it, but spends a considerable amount of time doing so.) I enjoy watching her, and she does have a point with that verse.

At the beginning of what I have started to call **_the__ night, I had been in a very bad mood. Dumbledore and McGonagall had come to the dungeons to tell me they wanted to have Lupin back in the fold._**

"I do think you would be a great Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher, Severus," Dumbledore had stated, "But so is Lupin. And you are not replaceable when it comes to potions."

His flattering words had been wasted on me, and we had argued until late. I didn't really care all that much for the Defence Against The Dark Arts post anymore. I am past the point where I could live without spending some time in the lab each day, brewing, inventing, experimenting … making Longbottom go green with fear when I force him to test a potion …

What I objected to was Lupin, plain and simple. One of my archenemies, along with Potter, Black and this insufferable Pettigrew. Lupin and I had never gotten along, even before he tried to eat me. And now I was to concoct his monthly supply of Wolfsbane, so he could come back and continue to annoy me?

I reminded Dumbledore and McGonagall that parents usually reacted less than enthusiastic to werewolves teaching their children. They reminded me that Lupin would – technically speaking – not _be_ a werewolf if I did a proper job with that Wolfsbane Potion. I asked them whether they wished to imply that the blame would fall to me should anything werewolf-related happen. They asked me whether anything werewolf-related _could happen if I did a proper job with that Wolfsbane Potion._

You see, it was fairly obvious that they had not really come to ask for my approval. They were simply delivering facts in the guise of a discussion. I couldn't resist giving them a hard time, so I kept arguing although I knew no one – not even me! – could talk Dumbledore out of his ideas.

And in the end, it was a good thing I didn't give in so quickly. Because by the time I escorted my colleagues back out of the dungeons, Malfoy had pulled his little stunt and we became parts of it.

Of all the things that happened during **_the _**_night, the moment in the small chamber just after we had regained our memories overshadows the rest. The shock of realizing who I was, and – more importantly – who the girl in my arms was. I remember looking down at her and bracing myself for her scream. I was absolutely prepared to let her run._

But for some reason she didn't, and I cannot even begin to comprehend what made her stay. I asked her, but she keeps silencing me in the most effective ways … ahem …

The only thing I knew was that I could not let this chance pass. So after her unintended slip of tongue (I still can't believe she said that), I couldn't simply let her leave. So I stopped her.

Trying to read her impression, I found no repulsion or fear in her eyes – which is remarkable, because most people wear exactly this combination when confronted with me. And I couldn't tell for the life of me who initiated the next kiss. One moment we had been staring at each other, trying to sort out what had happened and how we were to live with it, and the next we were in each other's arms again.

And somehow, in the light of one night, we came this far. Hermione is still asleep on my shoulder, but I will have to do the cruel thing soon and wake her up. If she misses so much as five minutes of class, she will torture and kill me and feed my remains to her horrible cat (I would never have guessed she owns a pet more vicious than the most poisonous snakes I've ever possessed. This cat is a weapon, and I swear he hates me. I do admit that I have toyed with the idea of putting that cat into something toxic … or putting something toxic into that cat … but I doubt it would take Hermione more than instants to figure out the culprit either way. And from what she tells me, the cat has an infallible sense when it comes to recognising dark wizards, so I maybe I should just consider it a living Sneakoscope).

Strangely, the rest of the school hasn't noticed about us. No rumours are flying, no double entendres passed on. Well, I know for a fact that Malfoy and his shadows are too scared to talk. I see them walk off to the Forbidden Forest each night with Filch and Hagrid, and come back looking weary. Hermione begins to feel sorry for them. They have done us a favour after all, she argues. Which is completely not the point, in my opinion.

Potter and Weasley I cannot judge, but it is my guess they are too embarrassed to tell anyone about their best friend and their most hated teacher.

Dumbledore has been supportive all along, even providing Hermione with an in-house two-way portkey, so she can travel to the dungeons and back unnoticed. Minerva does not know about this – she would go berserk. She has been threatening me at least once each day since **_the__ night to treat Hermione well. She even had a long talk with her Gryffindor prize student, which Hermione refuses to tell me anything about. Whenever I ask her, she just blushes and changes topics. I think they're only letting us get away with this because it's just a few more weeks to graduation._**

Lupin will arrive today – trust my mind to stumble across the one thought that could ruin a perfect morning. (Perfect morning? And since when does my mind combine _these two words into one notion?)_

"You're scowling," says a muffled voice, and I look down to find Hermione awake, yawning and stretching. "What's the time?"

"You won't be late for class," I assure her dryly, and feel her relax instantly.

"You woke me up with all that scowling and frowning."

"You can go back to sleep for another hour," I inform her.

She looks up at me expectantly. "Or…"

"Or … you could put the time to good use, doing … something else."

She gives me the Gryffindor version of an evil grin, which is in fact sickeningly cute. Yes, I think she will settle for … something else. Yet again. So I give her the Slytherin version of an evil grin, which never fails to make her shiver.

And suddenly a thought occurs to me. Running a finger down her shoulder, I strain to keep the malicious glee out of my voice when I ask, "Do you think … can I be the one to tell Lupin?"

**~ The End ~ **

**********

Wow, it's finished …….. this feels sooo strange. Somehow this ended a lot fluffier (is that a word?) than I intended, but Sevvie and Hermione demanded me to write it that way. Guess they need their share of fluffy happiness from time to time (what with all the angsty stuff about them out there). I guess I got addicted to writing fanfiction in the process of writing this; and you were great to read it and urge me on with your reviews. Hope you liked it. I certainly loved your reviews!!!!

Remains the need to give credit where it's due: Apart from JK Rowling and Joss Whedon, who have provided me with the characters and ideas, I have borrowed shamelessly from other sources as well.

First of all, the spells you don't recognize from the books are actually lines from the Requiem Mass: "Confutatis Maledictis" is a verse from the Ingemisco/Lacrymosa, translating roughly to "When the accursed have been confounded" (you need the context for this line to make sense, but I thought it sounded neat).

"Quidquid latet, apparebit" is from the Dies Irae, and should mean something like "Whatever is hidden will be made known" (now that's fitting, isn't it?).

Second, Hermione's memory of nearly choking in chapter nine has been inspired by (read: stolen from) a scene from Robert Cormier's "After the First Death". Hope he doesn't mind.

And third, the Muggle song with the verse about the night does exist; it's from the Miss Saigon musical.

Most of the funny lines are taken from various Buffy episodes (Seasons 6 & 7).

And some things were actually my idea :)

A nagging voice in my head already whispers something that sounds a lot like "Sequel!" I sort of want the rest of the school to find out, and I'd love to elaborate on Draco's predicament and the things he encounters in the Forbidden Forest. I'd also love to see how the couple deals with … you know, being a couple, when they're in the potions classroom. If you'd care for a continuation sometime in the future, give me a sign *blinksandpointstothereviewbutton*.

Thanks for the great time! Hope to see you again!


End file.
